


You're the Worst... I Kinda Love It

by BreeTaylor



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, American Sign Language, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship, michael and lindsay is implied but not really a main focus, ray can't focus unless he's doing something with his hands, ryan is the hot new professor, that gets him into trouble sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 12:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6754411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreeTaylor/pseuds/BreeTaylor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray had always been good with his hands. Which sounded really sexual, but honestly just meant he had an obsession with building things and origami when he was young. When he entered High School he took an optional ASL class, and kind of fell in love. Now it's how him and Michael manage to get away with not paying attention in boring required college classes. Ray just wasn't anticipating the new professor to be so fucking hot. </p>
<p>ASL had never gotten him in so much trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're the Worst... I Kinda Love It

**Author's Note:**

> So I pretty much love ASL and have wanted to learn it for most of my life. One of my close friends mentioned that she got away with a lot of bullshit in classes because her and her best friend would just talk in sign language. I knew immediately I wanted to write a story where Ray and Michael do just that. Let me know what you think!

Ray had always been good with his hands. Which sounded really sexual, but honestly just meant he had an obsession with building things and origami when he was young. When he entered High School he took an optional ASL class, and kind of fell in love. He caught on fast—way faster than the rest of the class—and was basically fluent by the end of the year. It was a nice stress relief to just sign the alphabet (or curse words) absentmindedly during exams or boring classes.

He met Michael Jones at their Freshman orientation at the University of Texas, and they clicked almost instantly. Michael was loud, and had a quite a temper, but he and Ray bonded over video games and the rest was history. They applied to be roommates on the day they met.

Half way through welcome week, Michael decided that he wanted to learn ASL too, if not just so he would be able to understand what the _fuck_ Ray was signing at his desk. He didn’t catch on nearly as quick as Ray had, but by the end of the year they were able to communicate pretty well. In the two years following, it became their thing. Whenever they were in the class, they’d spend half the class time absentmindedly signing back and forth. From across the room. It annoyed the _hell_ out of their professors.

They didn’t have classes together often, with Ray majoring in game design and Michael in theater, but when junior year rolled around, they both ended up in an English Lit class, realizing the semester before that they needed it to graduate.

Ray was not good at English, and frankly he found Shakespeare _beyond_ boring. Michael shared his distaste, and they walked into the first day already wishing it was over. They went straight to the middle of the room, as usual, and plopped down sort-of close to each other, but far enough that they could sign without visibly not paying attention.

The class was surprisingly small for being a graduation requirement. If Ray had to guess, there were only thirty or so people in the room. Meaning it would drop to twenty or less by the second week. Some of the faces were familiar. Ray recognized Barbara from his first year math class, and Jeremy from one of his early computer programing classes.

Ray glanced at the clock. Class was due to start, but there was still no sign of their professor. James Haywood, or something like that? Ray wasn’t super familiar with the professors in the English department, but from the hum in the room he assumed he was new.

_You seen this guy before?_ He sighed to Michael.

_No_.

Ray hummed, and pulled origami paper from his notebook. He wasn’t nearly as obsessed as he once was, but it was still fun to do when he was bored. He loved to make stars and turtles, usually leaving them on the desk. He’d kept them for a while, but he quickly ran out of room to put them, and Michael _hated_ finding them in the kitchen and bathroom.

James Haywood walked in exactly on the hour. And Ray’s jaw dropped.

_Holy fuck_. Ray sighed quickly to Michael. _Dude what the fuck, please tell me that’s not who I think it is._

Michael didn’t have to respond, as the man in question cleared his throat at the front of the room. Like he didn’t pull everyone’s attention the minute he walked in with his damn pretty face. “Hello, everyone. My name is Ryan Haywood. This is English 350: Young Adult Literature. Everyone in the right place?”

The class nodded. Some brave soul at the front raised their hand. Ryan raised an eyebrow, nodding at her to continue, “Sir, it says on the course information that your name is James Haywood.”

“Ah, yes,” Ryan moved to the desk in the room, dropping his bag heavily onto it. “I tried to get them to change that. Ryan is my middle name, but I’ve gone by it my whole life, and I’d prefer for you all to refer to me by that name as well.”

_Dude,_ Ray signed.

_What?_

_He’s hot._

Michael rolled his eyes, _He’s probably like 40._

_No way, he can’t be over 36._

_That’s still like nine years on you, bro._

_Like that matters? I’d still tap that._

He moved his eyes back to the front of the classroom, only half-paying attention to the words rolling out of his beautiful and soft-looking lips. He was talking about the books they would need—there were like _six_ of them, what the actual fuck—and the layout of the class. Ryan, because he was young, didn’t really believe in test taking, much to the class’ pleasure.

“This is going to be heavily discussion-based,” He said. “I want you guys to form real opinions on the books we’re reading—not what you think I want to hear. In fact, if I think you’re trying to conform to ‘standard’ ideas like the ones you’ll find on _SparkNotes_ you’re going to lose marks. And, yes. I know how to use Google.”

He got some chuckles, and some nervous looks. So far, Ray actually did like him. He seemed interesting, and comfortable in what he was saying. And hell, no tests. Fucking anything that got him out of tests had his approval.

When he left the classroom at the end of the allotted time, he was looking forward to returning on Wednesday. He didn’t even think about the cluster of stars left on the table.

* * *

Monday, Wednesday, and Friday’s quickly became his favorite days of the week. He wasn’t super into the course material, what with his preference of video games over reading, but Ryan was super into it and he never failed to keep the class discussion interesting.

Ray caught sight of Michael signing out of the corner of his eye. _You’re ogling. Again._

_I am not. Shut up._

_Seriously, dude, you’re looking at him with the most obvious heart eyes._

Ray sighed, finishing off his tenth star. _It’s not my fault he has the perfect arms to shove me against a wall and do, terrible nasty things._

_Ray,_ Michael crinkled his nose, _Why? I didn’t need that mental image._

“Mr. Narvaez,” Ryan said, pulling Ray back to the present. “Do you have any opinions on _The Giver_?”

“Uh,” Ray flushed, fiddling with the newly finished star in his hand that was far too small for Ryan to notice. “I found the ending really interesting.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well my copy has an interview with the lady that wrote it in the back, and she said she’s never told anyone how it was “supposed” to end,” He said, adding the air quotes in for flair. “I think it’s cool that she leaves it up to each person to interpret how they want it to end. It means that you might read it differently, depending on where you are in life. Like… emotionally…”

He trailed off, suddenly self-conscious, but Ryan smiled brightly at him. “That’s great! I have to agree with your observation, too. The first time I read this novel, I was in a dark place and interpreted it as Jonas dying, but when I reread it at a happier point in my life, I saw it as him finally finding the Elsewhere.”

Ray smiled and nodded, feeling the flush rising in his cheeks. At least he didn’t sound like as much of an idiot as he thought he did. Michael caught his eye again with a smirk, _Teacher’s pet._

_Oh man, I wish,_ Ray quipped back. He had to force himself to hold in his laughter as Michael turned a lovely shade of pink.

He was reluctant to leave at the end of class, especially since it was Friday, and tried to focus on all the video games he’d get to play that weekend to try and stop thinking about Ryan fucking Haywood and his goddamn eyes.

He left more stars on the table than usual, and walked out of the room with a sigh.

* * *

All he wanted to do was sit on the couch and vegetate with Xbox controller in hand. He had a shit ton of homework that he was planning to put off until Sunday night, and he wanted to _enjoy_ that procrastination, thank you very much. But no, Michael was on a kick about him “getting out there” and “being social” and all that bullshit.

Michael may or may not have mentioned something about finding someone other than their English professor to set his sights on, but Ray was firmly choosing to ignore that statement because it was _ridiculous._ He didn’t have a _crush_ on Ryan. He just wouldn’t mind banging him.

Michael didn’t exactly know how to take _no_ for an answer, though, which is how Ray found himself begrudgingly sat in their school’s indie coffee shop, _The Common Room_ , staring at a freshman trying desperately to woo the crowd with comedy. It wasn’t working. Ray almost felt bad. Almost.

His eyes scanned the room again as he idly folded a small square of paper into a star. He could fold them in his sleep at this point, but they were still calming. Michael was in the far corner, chatting up some girl with red hair that Ray had never seen before. They were both smiling and laughing, and Michael was doing that _thing_ were he smiled really small just for her. He was into her.

Ray sighed, about to get up and leave when none other than Ryan fucking Haywood walked through the door, the bell above it chiming cheerily like Ray’s whole world didn’t just stop as he stared unabashedly at the man. Because, okay.

1) Professors didn’t go to _The Common Room,_ and 2) Ryan wasn’t wearing his normal class attire of slacks and a button down. No. Ryan was wearing dark-wash jeans that would scream “dad-jeans” on anyone else, and a T-shirt that hugged his torso in ways that was _far_ too dangerous for Ray’s poor heart.

Fucking asshole looked like some sort of Greek God and he acted like he didn’t even know. Which wasn’t possible, because he was turning heads. Girls and guys alike were staring—some more subtly than others—and there was no way he didn’t know that. Ray could hear the group of girls giggling from his position on the other side of the fucking room.

He looked over at Michael, desperately trying to get his attention, but _no_. He was wholly focused on the damn redhead. What the hell was Ray supposed to do?

_Nothing,_ he thought to himself after a second of sheer panic. _He’s your professor, you’re not_ supposed _to do anything._

Which, duh. The poor guy just probably didn’t realize this was a student-heavy coffee shop. He probably just needed caffeine as much as the rest of them with the amount of papers he surely had to grade. Ray forced his eyes downwards, devoting far more attention than was necessary to folding his little stars. Anything to keep his eyes firmly off Ryan. And his ass.

He focused so hard on _not_ looking at Ryan, that Ray didn’t realize he was headed straight in his direction until he slid into the seat directly across from him. He couldn’t imagine how stupid he must’ve looked as he stared wide-eyed and confused at the older man across the table.

“Hey Ray,” Ryan smiled brightly.

“Uh... Hi?”

“There’s some very, ah… confident young girls who were quite interested in having a conversation over by the counter. I’m actually here to get work done, so I excused myself with the excuse of meeting you to discuss an assignment. I hope you don’t mind?”

Ray stared at him like he was crazy. Because, what? Why didn’t he just tell them to fuck off? More importantly, why did he chose _Ray_ as his victim of choice? He could spot at least three other classmates in the shop.

“Ray? If you’re busy I can leave—”

“No!” The word slipped from his lips far faster than Ray wanted it to, and he could _feel_ the blush rising up his neck. “I mean, it’s cool. I just wasn’t expecting it, y’know?”

Ryan chuckled, “Again, I apologize for the intrusion.”

“That probably happens to you a lot, doesn’t it?” Ray asked, nodding back towards the wistful girls staring in their direction.

“It actually does, yeah,” Ryan sighed. “I’m flattered, but I wish they’d be subtler about it.”

Ray laughed awkwardly, thinking about all the times he had signed large rants about how _great_ Ryan’s ass looked to Michael. If only the poor man knew. “I can’t say I’ve ever had that problem.”

“Really?” Ryan raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say any more. He pulled out a stack of essays, and Ray took it as his queue to occupy himself again. He worked on folding more stars, while desperately trying to urge Michael to look in his direction with his mind.

“I wondered if that was you,” Ryan said out of nowhere, making Ray jump.

“What?”

“The stars. I wondered if it was you who folded them.”

“Oh—yeah. I, uh. I am paying attention, I swear. I just have troubles focusing if I have to keep my hands still.” He said in a rush.

“Ray, it’s fine. You provide good points in our discussion, I’ve never doubted your participation.”

“Oh.”

“It’s always interesting seeing them, scattered about on the desk.”

“Yeah. I used to take ‘em home, but I ran out of room,” Ray rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “Turns out roommates don’t like it so much when they’re showered by a stars shoved into a cabinet.”

Ryan laughed, like _actually_ laughed, and Ray could swear he felt his heart stop. He didn’t think he’d ever heard something as wonderful as Ryan’s laugh, “That sounds lovely.”

“Tell that to Michael,” Ray grumbled, and with that Ryan returned to his work like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just turned Ray’s world upside down with his damn laugh. Because, yeah, he might have a _little_ crush on his Professor.

Finally, _finally_ , Michael looked in his direction, and his eyes shot wide open.

_Is that?_ He signed. Ray nodded quickly. _What the fuck?_

Ray shrugged, _He just kind of… showed up. I’ll explain later. We need to go._

_Why? Isn’t this the perfect opportunity to…_ he trailed off, turning to the redhead to presumably explain what the fuck he was doing. She smiled, and waved at Ray. _Dude, you should be flirting right now. This is your chance to get into his pants._

Ray blushed, and quickly shook his head. _Michael, I need to leave._

The seriousness obviously came through, and Michael nodded slowly. He turned back to the girl, probably to get her number, before making his way over to where Ray and Ryan were sitting. He clapped Ray roughly on the shoulder when he reached the table, “Haywood, fancy seeing you here!”

“Hey, Michael. How’s it going?”

“Good, good. Sorry to say, but I gotta get this guy home,” He ruffled Ray’s hair—much to his chagrin and embarrassment.  “He needs at least three hours of Xbox a night or he goes into withdrawals.”

Ryan chuckled. Ray wanted to die. He stood abruptly, muttered a quick goodbye, and pulled Michael roughly from the building. “I hate you so much,” He said once they were safely outside. Michael just laughed.

* * *

Things were slightly different after that weekend. Ray blushed every time Ryan made eye contact, and it was embarrassing as fuck. Which Michael liked to point out at every possible opportunity.

_Dude you want to bang him so bad._

_Fuck you._

_Fuck_ him _though, am I right?_

_You’re an asshole._

_You still want that ass._ Ray buried his head in his arms, trying desperately not to think too much about Ryan. He knew Michael would stop if he actually explained that “I want to tap that” evolved to “I want to go on a date with that,” but that would involve telling Michael that information. Which Ray really didn’t want to do, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

_Michael._ He signed, giving him a “yes, this is serious you asshole” look. _I don’t just want to fucking sleep with him. Obviously I_ do _, but so does half the fucking class. I had one damn conversation with him and now I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to go on a date with the guy. Basically, I’m fucked._

Michael didn’t answer at first. Just looking at him, studying his face. His eyes were sad when he did finally respond. _You kind of are. Maybe he’s into you, too?_

_Yeah right._ Ray scoffed. Ryan was about as far out of his league as a person could get.

_Hey, he chose to sit with you, didn’t he?_

_Only to get away from other annoying students who find him hot._

Michael shrugged, _I’m just saying, anything’s possible dude._

Ray couldn’t believe the ridiculousness of what he was implying. Ray wasn’t just going to—to approach his teacher and ask him on a date. Honestly, how ridiculous would that be. Also probably completely against school rules? He spent the remainder of class folding stars just so he could ignore that all this was happening. He wanted nothing more than to run from the classroom at the end of the class period, but Ryan cleared his throat and requested him at office hours.

Ray felt his heart drop.

Ryan’s office was on the complete other side of campus, and Ray took his sweet time walking there. He had a sickening feeling in his gut that told him something was wrong. He stood in front of the door—636—and stared at the name there. It was shiny and new.

_James Haywood,_ to which Ryan had added a makeshift label reading _Ryan_. He took a deep breath, and knocked three times. The reply was almost instant. “Come in, Ray.”

He closed the door behind him, eyes darting around the office and noticing that, aside from a shit ton of books, it was pretty plain. He slipped nervously into one of the chairs in front of Ryan’s desk, tapping a rhythm onto his thigh as he waited for Ryan to speak.

“So,” He said eventually, pushing his glasses to the top of his head and facing Ray with a look that was _way_ to somber to be good. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but American Sign Language is pretty easy to pinpoint in classrooms as small as ours.”

Ray felt his heart drop to his stomach, dread seeping over him. Ryan probably thought he was such an asshole, disturbing his class and not paying attention in favor of talking to Michael. “Ryan, I’m sorry. Like I said before, I have a thing about my hands being still. Michael and I didn’t mean to disrupt your class…”

“Ray,” Ryan said, voice deep and serious, “I _understand_ ASL.”

“You—you what?” Ray asked, his voice cracking.

“I’m fluent in American Sign Language. Took it all through college.”

Ray swallowed around the ever-growing lump in his throat. This couldn’t get worse. “So you, uh… You probably caught some of our conversations then.”

“Try _all_ of your conversations. You two aren’t exactly subtle.”

“To be fair, you’re the first person I’ve ever met that wasn’t deaf who understands it.”

“Well that’s quite lucky for you. Do you and Michael usually speak about such… subjects while your professors teach?”

Ray shook his head slowly, “No. It’s, uh, it’s just you.”

“Right.”

“I’m sorry.”

Ryan stood up, pacing back and forth in front of Ray. “It’s completely inappropriate,” He said. Ray nodded, and stood as well. He just wanted to leave. “You can’t continue such behavior.” Again, Ray nodded. He took a step back towards the door. He had never been so humiliated.

Ryan stopped suddenly, turning to face Ray head-on. At first, he thought Ryan was going to tell him to drop his class, or worse, but instead the man in question took two steps forward, closing the gap between them, and grabbed Ray’s face roughly before crashing their lips together.

This was… this was not what Ray was expecting. He froze for all of three seconds before his hands found their way into Ryan’s hair, tugging roughly on the soft blonde strands. Ryan’s hands moved down his neck, down his back, to rest on his hips. He pushed Ray backwards until he felt the hard wood of Ryan’s office door against his back. Ryan’s knee nudged Ray’s legs open so he could press closer as his hands continued downwards, gripping Ray’s thighs so he could lift him. Papers taped to the surface ripped as Ray’s back was slid upwards, all his weight resting on Ryan’s hips as the older man messaged his ass.

Ryan broke away without warning, trailing kisses down Ray’s neck. He pulled the collar of his shirt aside, biting marks into the exposed skin. Ray let his head fall back against the door, letting out a quiet moan, and suddenly it was over. He was firmly on the ground, and Ryan was back on the other side of the room looking ashamed and appalled.

Ray felt so exposed as Ryan stared at him like he was something dirty and gross. His arms instinctively wrapped around his torso as his eyes searched for answers. Ryan simply shook his head, looking away and pushing a hand through the hair Ray had been tugging on just moments before. “I can’t… that was completely inappropriate of me.”

“Ryan…” Ray started.

“No, I apologize for that. I don’t know what came over me. Please refrain from using ASL in my classes unless it is relevant to the course material. I’ll see you Monday.”

Ray all but bolted from the room. He waited until he was a safe distance away from the building, running through the lawns and in the direction of home before he let the tears fall. He’d never felt so gross or dirty as he did now. He’d never felt so disgusting as when Ryan looked at him like he was some horrible thing.

There was no way he could go to class on Monday.

* * *

“How was your meeting with Mr. Greek God?” Michael teased as Ray opened the door to the apartment, leaning back against it and sliding down until he could bury his face in his knees. Michael was at his side before Ray could say a word. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“I’m an idiot.”

“Ray,” Michael said sternly, “What fucking happened.”

“He, uh…” Ray rubbed at his eyes, sure they were red and swollen, “He knows ASL. Knows all the shit we’ve been saying.”

“Did he kick you out of the class?”

Ray shook his head, “He kissed me.”

“What?”

“It all happened so fast. One second he was saying that it was inappropriate, and then he was kissing me and it was rough and amazing and then…” He shook his head. It was so embarrassing. The last thing he wanted to do was fucking tell Michael how disgusted Ryan had looked when he pulled away.

“What happened?” Michael asked softly.

“He pushed me away like I was dirty laundry. Wouldn’t even look at me; said it was wrong of him to even do that in the first place.”

“Ray…”

“I’ve never felt so embarrassed and… and _gross_ in my life.” Ray said. “There I was, thinking he was actually into me like a complete idiot.”

“This isn’t your fault,” Michael said sternly. “He shouldn’t have kissed you. Especially if he was going to… to pull this shit.”

“I can’t face him again.” Ray whispered into his knees. “I can’t just go to his class and act like nothing happened. I can’t do it.”

“Ray, if you don’t go you’ll fail.”

“I don’t care. I feel like such a fucking idiot.”

“You’re not the first person to lust after a professor,” Michael pointed out, “And you sure as hell won’t be the last.”

“I know. I know that. But I… he…” Ray shook his head. “I can’t do it, Michael. I’d rather take the fail than walk back into that classroom on Monday morning.”

“What a fucking asshole,” Michael muttered, pulling Ray to his feet and leading him towards the couch. He placed an Xbox controller in Ray’s hand, and moved into the kitchen to make them something to eat. Ray tried to distract himself with the game, but nothing he was doing was working. He just kept dying as his mind replayed the kiss over and over and over.

He ate the offered sandwich, because Michael had gone to the trouble of making it and he _was_ hungry, but quickly excused himself after. All he wanted to do was shower and sleep and forget about how Ryan’s hands felt on his skin. How Ryan’s _mouth_ felt on his skin.

Just before he stepped into the shower, Ray caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. More specifically, he caught a glimpse of the giant fucking hickey Ryan had sucked onto his neck.

Because a constant reminder of what happened was just what Ray needed.

No matter how much he scrubbed at his skin, he couldn’t seem to get rid of the dirty feeling that lingered just under the surface. He should’ve never gone to Ryan’s office.

* * *

When Michael walked into English 350 on Monday, sans Ray, he was all practically vibrating with anger. Ray had barely left his room all weekend, even getting him to _eat_ was a struggle. He said he was fine, but they both knew it was bullshit. Ray wasn’t going to admit it, but he was super into Ryan. He found him intriguing. And the asshole got his fucking hopes up before pussying out. What a fucking dick.

Ryan walked through the door right on the hour, as usual. His eyes scanned the room and he at least had the decency to do a double take when he noticed Ray wasn’t in his usual spot. Or in the classroom at all. He glanced at Michael, who glared daggers.

Then the asshole jumped right into his goddamn lesson plan. What a fucking dick.

It didn’t take long for Michael’s anger to get the better of him, and he started signing in Ryan’s direction. _Knowing_ he would see. _Knowing_ he could understand. Asshole.

_I know what you did. I know you can understand this. And I want you to know that you’re a huge fucking pile of shit for doing that to Ray. You can’t just kiss someone and then tell them to fuck off. Man the fuck up._

Ryan looked very uncomfortable for the remainder of the class, which meant Michael had done his job right. As soon as their period ended, Ryan motioned for him to stay. He thought about ignoring it, but the look of desperation in Ryan’s eyes made him curious. He held back until everyone left the room before sauntering to the front.

“Look,” Ryan stared, “I don’t know what Ray told you, but—”

“He didn’t have to _tell_ me anything,” Michael growled. “He came back in fucking tears with a hickey on his neck. I put two and two together.”

“It was a mistake to kiss him.”

“You knew he was into you. Why the fuck would you use him like that?”

“I wasn’t…” Ryan shook his head. “It’s not appropriate to have relations with students.”

“Didn’t stop you from shoving your tongue down his goddamn throat in the first place, did it?”

“Michael.”

“No, _fuck you_. If you understand ASL, then you _knew_ he was into you. You _knew_ what it would mean to kiss him. You took advantage of him, and it’s taking pretty much all my willpower not to punch you in the goddamn face right now because Ray is sweet, and naïve as fuck, and he didn’t deserve that bullshit. He thinks you think he’s _dirty_. That he’s _trashy_.”

“I don’t…”

“No fucking shit, but he didn’t exactly have the best self-confidence before you sauntered into his life. So I suggest you stay the fuck out of it from this point on.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

“Yeah, well, you did.”

Ryan sighed, resting his face in his hands. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you broke it.” Michael said firmly, and promptly stormed out of the room.

* * *

The more time Ray had to sit and think on what had happened, the angrier he got. Because, okay, what the fuck gave Ryan the right to kiss him _like that_ and then turn around and act like he wasn’t super fucking into it, too. Sure, it was “inappropriate,” but so was the goddamn way he handled it. He wasn’t used to getting angry, that was Michael’s thing, but damn if it didn’t feel better than just feeling shitty.

In all honesty, Ray knew that making rash decisions while angry probably wasn’t a smart idea, but it didn’t stop him from making the trek to Ryan’s office and knocking heavily on the door. It wasn’t until a muffled “come in” sounded that he started having second thoughts.

But he needed to do this for himself. So Ray squared his shoulders and stormed right in, closing the door firmly behind him. The shock on Ryan’s face was well worth the nervousness making his palms sweat.

“Ray! I, uh, didn’t expect to see you here.” He stuttered, shuffling the papers around on his desk. “You haven’t been in class for the past two weeks, I was worried.”

“You say that like it’s not your fault I haven’t been there.”

Ryan sighed, “Why don’t you take a seat and we can discuss your options moving forward from here?”

“No,” Ray shook his head, choosing instead to pace back and forth in front of Ryan’s desk. “I think you need to stop avoiding the fucking subject. We kissed—hell, we were one step away from fucking against the door of your office.”

“I… that’s…” Ryan’s face was red, which just motivated Ray to continue because it was _his fucking turn_ to feel bad.

“Like, okay, I get that it’s “inappropriate,” or whatever,” He said, throwing air quotes around the word, “but it’s not like it never happens, either. And you were just as into it as I was.”

“That doesn’t make it _right_.” Ryan said sternly. “You are my _student._ ”

“Yeah, for like three more weeks.”

“Ray…” Ryan sighed. “It just. It wouldn’t work, okay? I acknowledge that what I did was wrong. I shouldn’t have made a move on you if I knew I wasn’t going to go through with it. But now—”

“Why did you?”

“What?”

“Make a move. Why did you?”

“Why do you _think_?”

Ray threw his hands up, “I wouldn’t be asking if I thought I knew why, would I? I mean, do you go around making out with all the other people in the damn class who find you attractive? The ones who are even _less_ subtle than I was—at least I was using ASL!”

“Exactly!” Ryan shouted, hands slamming down on his desk as he stood and making Ray flinch. “You were different. You weren’t doing it for attention, you weren’t throwing yourself at me. You found me attractive, and I you. It’s that simple.”

“But I’m _not_.”

“You’re not what?”

“Attractive.”

“Oh you can’t be serious,” Ryan chuckled, turning to look out the window over campus. “Ray, you caught my eye the minute I walked into that goddamn classroom. Then you started folding fucking origami stars and signing with Michael across the room. I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

“So why?” Ray asked quietly.

“It’s inappropriate,” Ryan repeated for what felt like the thousandth time since Ray first walked into his goddamn office. “I’m truly sorry that I let my emotions get the better of me. I’m sorry that I hurt you. But it doesn’t change anything; I can’t be in a relationship with one of my students.”

He couldn’t really argue with that. If Ryan did get caught doing anything with Ray, he could lose his job. It sucked, but it was the truth. They were at a strange impasse. “So, uh… is it even possible for me to pass your class at this point?”

“Yes,” Ryan laughed. And wow, okay, Ray still really loved his laugh. “Seeing as it was my fault you felt too uncomfortable to come, I have no problem excusing your absences. Just write me, like, a 500-word response to _Scott Pilgrim_ and we’ll call it even. _If_ you start coming again, that is.”

“You want me to respond to what could easily be considered the best comic series of all time in _500 words?_ ” Ray sputtered, “Impossible. But I’ll see you Friday.”

Ryan smiled, and Ray took it as his queue to leave. Before he could close the door behind him, Ryan spoke again, much quieter than before. “I really am sorry, Ray.”

“It’s okay, I forgive you.” He replied. Because he did. Ryan’s reasons were sound and he apologized. That was more than Ray was expecting. He may not be _happy_ with the answer, but he respected it.

* * *

The next three weeks passed in a weird blur. Ray felt better, but his heart still panged every time Ryan walked into the room. It was weird not to be able to sign with Michael, and he found himself making way more stars than usual—and way more than he should. But the end of the semester came faster than he was expecting, and before he knew it Ryan was saying his goodbyes and thanking them for their participation and discussion. And Ray’s heart felt heavy in his chest at the realization that this was _goodbye_ for him. He wasn’t going to see Ryan again.

“Why don’t you just go talk to him?” Michael asked as they left the room.

“Because he made it perfectly clear that a relationship of any sort would be completely inappropriate.”

“Yeah, but you’re not his student anymore.” Ray froze mid-step. Michael was right. He wasn’t his student. He never would be again because this was his second-to-last semester and there was no way in _hell_ he’d be taking another English class. “You alright there, champ?”

“I gotta go,” Ray said simply, turning on his heel and jogging back to the classroom.

Ryan was still inside when he got there, unsurprisingly out of breath even from the short jog. He really should work on getting into better shape. But none of that mattered, because Ryan was standing right where Ray sat every single class, picking up each individual star and placing them into a jar that was almost completely full. He couldn’t stop the smile that broke out on his face if he wanted to.

“I didn’t know you kept them,” He said. Ryan jumped, sending a good portion of the stars flying from the jar. They cascaded around him as he turned to face Ray with a guilty expression.

“It seemed a waste to just throw them out.” He said, placing the jar on the counter. Ray took another step into the classroom, closing the door firmly behind himself.

“I could show you how to make them, y’know.” He said, moving closer. Recognition flashed across Ryan’s face, followed by shock, and finally understanding.

“Yeah?” Ryan asked, his voice at least an octave lower. There was barely a foot between them now.

“Yeah.”

“Ray…” Ryan sighed, but there was no way in hell he was ruining this. Not again. Ray took another step closer, closing the gap between them and looping his arms around Ryan’s neck.

“I’m not your student anymore. Never will be again.”

“I don’t…” His breath hitched as Ray pressed a kiss to his neck, biting lightly at the skin there. “This is still…”

“Still what?” Ray breathed against his skin. “Are you saying that you don’t want this?”

“Fuck,” Ryan moaned as Ray bit his earlobe. “Where the hell is this coming from?”

“When I decide I want something; I don’t stop until I’ve figured out how to get it. I want _you_.”

“You barely know me, kid.”

Ray chuckled, pulling away enough to look into Ryan’s eyes. “I know enough to know that you want this as much as I do. The rest can come later.”

“Ah, fuck it.” Ryan said, and then his lips were back on Ray’s and everything just felt right again. He felt Ryan pull him closer, so almost all of them was pressed firmly together. He nibbled on Ray’s bottom lip, deepening the kiss as his hands hovered around the hem of Ray’s shirt. Ray moaned into the kiss and Ryan’s hands—warm and soft—found their way under his shirt, caressing his skin gently. Ryan broke the kiss to nibble at his neck, and Ray realized all at once that he was _way_ too turned on for their location.

“This, ah—Ryan,” He moaned as Ryan’s knee found its way between his legs, nudging them apart, “as lovely as this is, we really shouldn’t be doing it here.”

It was like something clicked in Ryan, and all at once there was once again a gap between them. Unlike in his office, Ray felt no shame this time. Ryan wasn’t looking at him like he was gross. Ryan was looking at him like he wanted nothing more than to bend him over the desk. It was a good look. “I don’t know how you do that—how you make my brain turn off like that.”

“What can I say, I’ve got a cute butt. It does that to people,” Ray teased. “You free tonight?”

Ryan nodded, starting to scoop stars off the desk and into the jar. “Have something in mind?”

“You could say that,” Ray smirked. When he was sure he had Ryan’s attention, he signed something that would most certainly never be found in a classroom. Ryan blushed, which Ray was discovering really quickly was one of his favorite things, and nodded quickly in response. “Good. See you tonight.”


End file.
